I am a shift and a half away from my staycation. Five nights of no work. Five nights. And because of Union rules, I can't be mandatoried in because I have scheduled vacation days at the end of my regular days off. God bless the IAFF. For real. To say that I am looking forward to my staycation is a colossal understatement.
Naps will be taken. Copiously. Extravagantly.
Frittata will be cooked for breakfast...which may be 3 in the afternoon. (See above.)
Porching will be conducted.
Baseball will be watched. In person. I already have tickets for two games and might go to a third. (I must admit that I really did cry over Danny Duffy's injury. Such a nice kid and our best pitcher, out for the year. I don't care what Jimmy Dugan says, sometimes there is crying in baseball.)
Hornsby's will be consumed. (Amber Draft, not Crisp Apple, if anyone's keeping track.)
Midnight walks will be taken.
Fresh asparagus will be bought, cooked, and eaten.
Those are the definites. Nothing and nobody shall keep me from the preceding list. (Imagine me channeling Scarlett O'Hara here. "As God as my witness....") I have some mights, too.
I might scrape paint.
I might caulk.
I might paint baseboards. (Well, okay, I probably won't do that. Let's not get completely crazy here.)
I might spray-paint the register covers that have been in the other parlor since January.
Or not. It's staycation, after all. Almost anything could happen.